


Calling the Shots

by Winchester666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bartender Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester BDSM, Consensual BDSM, Dom Castiel, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mentions of past noncon, NSFW, Plot With Porn, Slow Build, Sorry Not Sorry, Sub Dean Winchester, dom/sub relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester666/pseuds/Winchester666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's been out of the BDSM lifestyle for a while, but when an old friend sets him up on a blind date with Castiel, he ends up finding a lot more than a new playmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> The working title I saved this under was "Way Fucking Better Than 50 Shades", and that's how this fic started; as a better (and gay) BDSM love story. It sort of got away from me though, and has now developed into this monstrosity. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and subscribe for updates!

Dean’s eyes ached. He’d been alternating between staring at his computer screen and poring over papers for the last four hours. He glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer monitor, checking to see how much longer he’d have to keep at it before he could excuse himself for lunch. He’d been in a rush this morning, had thought to pick up his morning coffee but not to grab something for breakfast, and by now his stomach was pestering him for something to eat. Fifteen more minutes, he thought, going back to reading over the latest analytical report from human resources. Just then, there was a knock on his door. Relieved to have an excuse not to keep reading, Dean’s head shot up.

He cleared his throat, willing his voice to work again after hours of silence and turned down the volume on his computer, silencing the music of the classic rock internet radio station he’d had it tuned to. “It’s open, come on in.”

The door swung open and in walked Pamela Barnes, flicking her long dark hair back over her shoulder. 

“Hey there, Mister Chief of Marketing. Staying busy?”

Dean couldn’t help cracking a smile as Pamela, all propriety aside, perched herself on the edge of his desk, rather than taking the vacant chair across from him, and crossed her long legs.

“Don’t you know it.” He said back. “Now get your ass off my desk. You’re wrinkling my reports.”

Pamela rolled her eyes as she did as he asked. “When did you get so boring, Dean? You used to be fun.”

“Whatever happened to keeping work and play separate?” Dean replied, organizing a bunch of reports into a stack before standing and grabbing his jacket. “I was just gonna head for lunch, if you wanted to join…”

She nodded. “That sounds great. Because A: I’m hungry, and B: because I wanna talk to you about non-work stuff, as in playtime. And, like you said, work and play should stay separate.” Pamela gave him a suggestive wink and walked towards the door.

Dean followed, shaking his head. It had been a long time since Pamela had discussed playtime with him, and he wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from his ex-Domme.

* * *

"So, seeing anyone since Lisa?” Pamela asked bluntly as she speared a few leaves of her salad.

Dean nearly choked on his Diet Coke, surprised by how forward she was being. “Seriously?!” he grumbled, dabbing at the soda spatters on the tablecloth and his suit with a napkin. “That’s your idea of an opener?”

Pamela just shrugged. “I’m no good with the whole small-talk thing. I thought that we could just get down to business.”

“This is far from business, Pam. If we’re talking about what I think we are.”

“Dean, grow up a little. We’re just two adults, discussing relationships.” She sipped innocently on her lemon water, grinning at him around straw.

“Discussing _taboo_ relationships.” Dean muttered. “To answer your question, no. I haven’t been seeing anyone since Lisa. And I don’t plan to for a while.”

“She wasn’t into the scene, was she?” Pamela asked. “Did she know you were?”

Dean looked irritated. “No, and no. To be honest, I was hoping she’d be the key to getting out of it all.” 

A small bark of laughter burst from Pamela’s throat. Dean raised his eyebrows, look of annoyance deepening.

“Sorry!” Pamela said quickly, her face becoming serious. “I’m sorry, Dean, but really? Being a sub isn’t something you can just walk away from. It’s part of who you are, just like being a Domme is part of who I am. Think about it. You’ve seen that side of me. Do you really think I could change it?”

Dean swallowed hard and closed his eyes, rubbing a hand across his forehead. He remembered ‘that side’ of Pamela all too well. The stinging kiss of a riding crop coming down across his ass, the pinch of his nipples trapped in clamps. The overall helplessness of being wrapped up in Pamela’s beautiful diamond shibari, criss-crossing his chest and binding his arms behind his back. She had been whatever he needed her to be; a disciplinarian, a comfort, an anchor.

He came back down to earth with a bump, giving his head a shake.

“No.”Dean said after a moment. “No, I don’t think you could change it.”

“Exactly. So don’t sit there and shame yourself over something you can’t control and have absolutely no need to be ashamed about.” Pamela said, pointing her fork at Dean to emphasize her point.

Dean held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. But I gotta ask, why’re you asking? About…” He lowered his voice slightly. “Me and the scene?”

Pamela shrugged and swallowed the bite of salad in her mouth. “Eat something.” She said insistently.

“No. Tell me first, I’d rather not choke, thanks.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. I think I might’ve found you a new playmate.”

“Pamela!” Dean spluttered. “I-...You-... I’m not on the market!”

“You’re not off it either. C’mon, a relationship might be just what you need, Dean.”

“A relationship maybe. Not a dom.”

Pamela narrowed her eyes and set her fork down. “Dean, honey, listen. When have I ever put you in a situation that you couldn't cope with?”

Dean mentally cursed himself. Pamela was playing him like a harp, using that tone of hers; calm and reassuring, but insistent that she be obeyed. Even though she really held no power over him anymore, Dean couldn't help but succumb.

“Alright.I’ll meet her.”

The corners of Pamela's mouth quirked slightly. “Actually, it's a him.”

“Pamela!”

“Dean!" Pam grinned and imitated his shocked tone of voice. "You’ve played with boys before. I think he’s just what you need. At least meet him. See what happens.” Again she was brandishing her fork at him.

Dean rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Alright. Okay. I’ll meet with him.”

Pamela grinned. If there was one thing she knew, it was that Dean Winchester as one stubborn son of a bitch, and if he really didn't want to do something, no force on Earth could make him. Dean could play it up all he wanted, but at least some part of him wanted back in the game, and was jumping at the chance to do so.

“Great. He asked me to give you this.” Pam held out a neatly folded slip of paper to him. Dean took it and unfolded it, lip between his teeth.

In neat handwriting it said: **_Harvelle’s Roadhouse, 72 Kansas Road. 6pm, Saturday. Casual dress, I’ll be the one in the tie._ **

Dean snorted.”Say’s dress casual, but he’s gonna be there in a tie?”

Pam just shook her head. “Wait and see.”

* * *

Saturday arrived far quicker than Dean had anticipated. He found himself scrambling around his apartment at five o’ clock, rushing to get ready. 

He took a quick shower, shampooing his hair only to mousse it into soft spikes afterward. He was glad the note had said casual dress, at least he didn't have to think too much about his outfit. He ended up donning a well-loved Lynard Skynard tee over a pair of tight blue jeans and his Dad’s old leather jacket. 

Dean smiled at his reflection in the mirror by the door, then headed out. 

The drive out to the bar was slightly awkward, despite Dean’s solitude, his gut in an anxious knot. Doms were a divergent and difficult breed. Some were rather in-your-face, dominant in all aspects of life and had unreal expectations. The kind that you’d read about in multi-million best-sellers about ‘taboo’ sex. The ones that would hurt you. Most, however, were good at acting like normal human beings, keeping their sexual lifestyle under wraps unless in the presence of like-minded people. Even then, the really good doms tended to keep discussions leisurely and simplistic, as to make all parties feel comfortable.

Part of Dean, the part that was excited for this meeting, hoped that this man Pamela had set him up with would be of the latter. But the anxious part of him warned him not to have his expectations set too terribly high. Though Pam had never deliberately put him in any sort of sticky situation, she was only human.

Based on what she’d told him, Pamela had met this dom through her new sub, Meg. That made Dean a little uneasy, but then, Meg in general made Dean uneasy. The woman was wild, somewhat mean-spirited and, based on Dean’s more private conversations with Pamela, an utter masochist. Therefore, by affiliation, this man who had previously kept her in line made Dean slightly nervous. Meg was the kind of sub that, when paired up with a beginner dom, turned them into sadistic monsters, thinking all subs needed and wanted was to be brutalized.

Dean parked the Impala in a spot directly in front of the bar. No way he was leaving his baby someplace he couldn’t see her. Especially in front of a place like this. The bar looked divey to say the least. Out in the middle of nowhere, with a sign over the front that was hand-painted if Dean had to guess, letters that had probably once been bright red faded to a pale pink and illuminated with black lights. The building itself was old, the siding cracked and greying. Dean’s lips became a thin line in distaste. What a shithole.

He got out of the car with a sigh and walked inside. The interior wasn’t much better to look at. It reminded Dean of the saloons he’d seen in the old western movies he and his Dad used to watch. There was a pool table tucked away in a far corner, several old wooden chairs and tables scattered around the room and a couple booths. In front of a bare space he assumed to be a dance floor, there was a small stage for live entertainment, with a jukebox against it.

“Jesus.” Dean muttered under his breath. He glanced around at the few patrons in the bar with a raised brow. No one here really looked to be his type; a few older men playing cards around one of the tables, a threesome of young men at the pool table playing a round, and a couple bikers with huge biceps leaning against the jukebox while Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ blared from it. Dean swallowed hard, and was debating on making for the door when he felt someone poke his arm.

He had to look down to see her, this scrappy-looking blonde in a crop top and tight jeans. Dean blinked, because she definitely looked out of place. 

“You Meg’s friend?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Uh...yeah. But I thought-”

The girl cut him off. “Yeah. I’m Jo. You’re here for my brother, Castiel. He’s in the back, cleaning up for his shift. He asked me to get you settled.” She inclined her head toward the bar. “Come on.”

Dean followed her over to the stools lined up along the bar, taking a seat next to a young man with a mullet who seemed to be asleep with his head on the bar.

“What’re you drinking, mister…?”

“Dean. Southern Comfort on the rocks, please.”

Jo nodded and retrieved the bottle. “Single or double?”

“Make it a double.” Dean said, knowing the alcohol would help to settle his nerves at least somewhat. He watched as she measured it out and put it over ice, then slid the glass over to him.

“So Meg thinks you and Cas would be good for each other, huh?” Jo asked, leaning on the bar to talk to him over the music.

Dean shrugged and took a small sip of his drink, hissing slightly as it burned its way down his throat.“I guess you could say that.”

Jo’s face darkened slightly at his casual tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just means it’s complicated. Meg didn’t necessarily recommend your brother to me. Her...girlfriend did.” Dean explained quickly.

Jo didn’t seem fully convinced. “I see.”

Dean gave her a smile, trying to lighten her up, but that only seemed to irritate her more.

“One minute.” Jo grumbled, craning her neck as raised voices came from across the room; a fight had broken out between the boys at the pool table. She bolted out from behind the bar, bellowing at them with an impressively loud voice. The mulleted man next to Dean was suddenly on his feet and at her side, marching across the room.

“It seems you’ve caught us on an exciting night.”

Dean tore his eyes away from watching Jo hollering and mullet-head wrestling with one of the boys. “Aw, you mean this place isn't always jumpin’?”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the man before him. He was tall, probably a few inches shorter than Dean, with a nice build and slightly chapped lips. Dean’s eyes met his, and he couldn’t help but admire the way their sparkling blue was enhanced by the man’s...tie.

This was Castiel.


	2. Leave 'Em Wanting More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel meet.

Castiel?” The name slipped from Dean’s lips uncertainly as he tilted his head adorably

“Yes. You must be Dean.” Castiel held out his hand for Dean to shake, which he did. Dean chuckled to himself internally. While Jo had seemed out of place in the old-timey bar, Castiel, dressed in his white button-down with a waistcoat over it, tie tucked inside (backwards, Dean observed), looked like he too had come straight from an old western. Even his voice, deep and rich, fit right in. A shiver ran down Dean’s spine.

Castiel continued.“Both Pamela and Meg spoke highly of you.”

Dean snorted in amusement. “Well, if Meg spoke highly of me, then I must be something pretty special, huh?”

“Meg can be… Difficult to get along with.” Castiel said, choosing his words carefully. “But yes, she likes you and that is a good thing.”

It was strange, Dean thought, the way Castiel spoke, very formal and thoughtful of his words, as to not upset others. Not a trait most people had nowadays.

“So, is there a reason you invited me to meet you while you're working?” Dean asked after a few moments.

Castiel nodded.“My family owns this establishment. We take turns working here, but I have another job during the week. Saturday is a slow day here, usually.” He glanced over to Jo and the mulleted man, who were herding the young men out of the bar. 

“And don't come back!”Jo snapped after them, slamming the door. She looked over at Castiel. “We’re going for a smoke break out back. Try not to burn down the place, Cas.” She turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man with the mullet. “Come on, Ash.”

Dean and Castiel watched them leave, then looked back at each other.

“Your…siblings?” Dean guessed. None of them really looked to be such, but he couldn't think of what else the relation could be.

“Jo is, yes. I was adopted.”Castiel replied.

“And the rockstar wannabe?” Dean asked.

The men playing cards called for another round of beers.

“Ash. He started out as a regular here, but is now our bouncer and somewhat an extended member of the family.” explained Castiel as he pulled the beers from a fridge beneath the bar and set them on a tray, popping off the caps before swiftly delivering them to the table.

“So you keep it all in the family. I gotcha.” Dean said, taking a sip from his whiskey.

“What about you, Dean? What is your story?” Castiel asked. 

He leaned over the bar in the same way Jo had earlier, yet somehow to Dean it felt far more invasive. Perhaps it was because he knew what Castiel was, and that made him more wary. Though if he was being honest, if he had to pick sides in a fist-fight between Jo and Castiel, he would probably put his money on the rough-edged little lady than on this soft-spoken man.

“I work for Singer Auto International.” Dean began. He then felt his gut twist slightly. Here he was, Mister Bigshot with his comfy, well-paying desk job, while Castiel was working himself so hard, that the only time he had to date was while on the job. He wasn't about to sit here and feel like he wasn't worthy. Dean knew what it was like to have someone look down their nose at you.

“I’m a mechanic.” It wasn't a lie, per se. Dean was a mechanic, or had been, when he’d started out.

“A mechanic?” Castiel repeated. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty good with my hands.” Dean gave a small wink, and Castiel ducked his head shyly, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I don't doubt that.”

So far, Dean liked him. Castiel seemed shy and sweet, and Dean hoped some of that would carry over in the bedroom, if they got that far. As far as he was concerned, there were very few things that beat good aftercare after a particularly hard session.

“Family wise, it's just me and my dad at home. Mom died when I was four, and my little brother’s just finishing up law school in Cali.” Dean continued. “Got himself a pretty little girlfriend, and he’s planning on marrying her as far as I can tell.”

Castiel’s face lit up with a soft smile. “That sounds wonderful. You must be very proud.”

Dean ducked his head. “Yeah. Sam’s got it all worked out.”

“And you?” Castiel asked. “What are your plans for the future?”

The question caught Dean by surprise. He rubbed at the back of his neck, considering. “I actually don't really have any. I'm kind of a one-step-at-a-time type of guy, you know? I don't wanna live too fast, I just wanna live my life and do what makes me happy for the moment.”

The blue-eyed man hummed softly, an inclination that he understood and, at least to some degree, agreed. “That is a good outlook, I think. Life isn't worth living if you aren't doing something you enjoy.”

“You enjoy your job?” Dean asked.

Castiel was silent a moment, running a hand through his already-mussed black hair. “Well, yes and no. I enjoy working with my family, and socializing with the people here…” He trailed off, thinking of how to put what he wanted to say next delicately, in case Jo and Ash came back.

“But it could be better.” Dean finished for him.

Castiel nodded.

“Nothing wrong with wanting more.” Dean said with a kind smile. He finished off the last of his drink and smiled at Castiel. “Speaking of, what time are you off work during the week? I’m thinking I might be interested in a second date. Maybe a late dinner? Somewhere we can get to know each other a little more, y’know?”

“I...I’d like that, Dean.” Castiel said, blushing softly and nodding. “I’d like that very much. I’m off most nights by eight.”

* * *

Dean’s body buzzed as he drove home. It had been a long time since he’d felt so good about himself or this excited about something. He and Castiel had well and truly hit it off. Once Jo and Ash had come back in, the smell of cigarettes (and in Ash’s case, pot) clinging to their clothes, the four of them had started chatting to pass the time between serving patrons. Jo had quickly warmed to Dean, joking around and playfully flirting with him within minutes. He and Ash had bonded over classic rock and his Impala. 

Castiel’s family liked him, and if he was in good with the family, he could see no reason that this relationship couldn't progress, provided the second date went as well as this one had.

Dean and Cas had made arrangements to see one another again the following Tuesday, and Dean couldn't wait to tell Pamela. As soon as he got home, despite the fact that it was after midnight, he gave her a call.

“Hello?” A raspy voice that did not belong to Pamela answered between panting.

“Meg?” Dean asked in surprise.

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.”Wow, Winchester. Way to ruin the afterglow. “

“Whatever, Meg. Where’s your better half?” Dean asked, toeing off his boots and flopping onto his bed.

She gave a dramatic sigh. “Pam!”

There were muffled sounds as Pam shifted in the bed, Meg said something that was probably rude, and they fought over Pam’s phone.

“Dean?” Pam finally answered.

“Hey there. The hell-bitch keeping you busy?” Dean asked, staring up at his ceiling at a stain, wondering just how long it had been there.

“Never you mind. So, how was the meeting?” 

Dean shrugged, even though Pam wouldn’t see it. “He’s...normal. Or plays normal pretty well.”

“I told you he was cool!” Pamela scoffed. “What did you think, he was gonna bend you over the bar and start going all dom right there?” There was a slight laugh to her voice.

Dean shuddered softly as mental images flashed through his mind. Part of him really wouldn’t have minded that, had the bar been empty. Something to keep in mind if this continued to go well. “I should hope not.” He said after a moment. “No, I just mean...he’s nice. I like him. Does the normal thing so well, he almost seems uptight.”

“He takes his discretion seriously.” said Pam. “Doesn’t want anyone who isn’t part of the scene to know what he is.”

Dean hummed. He could get on board with that. “Well...there’s not much else to tell other than that… Like, we’re having a second date next Tuesday… hoping to get to know one another a little better.” He grinned. “he’s coming to my place.”

Pamela gave a low whistle, and giggled after. “Damn, Dean. You move quick.”

“Not like that…” Dean muttered.

“Uh huh. Well, good luck, sweet cheeks. It’s late, and I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted.”

Dean smiled faintly and nodded his head. “Alright Pam. We’ll talk later. Night.”

“Night, Dean.”

The call ended with a click and Dean tossed his phone down next to him with a sigh. All he could think of was the gorgeous bartending dom, with those hauntingly blue eyes.

He couldn’t wait for Tuesday.


	3. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean revisits the past and has his date with Castiel.

Monday night had Dean’s stomach in knots. Tomorrow evening he would see Castiel again. The man had been slipping in and out of his mind for the past two nights, and Dean wouldn’t deny that he’d spent at least one of them fantasizing about gazing into those gorgeous blue eyes while the other man drove sensations through his body he’d never experienced before. He dropped into bed, exhausted from spending the evening shouting with his father at the football game on TV and feeling numb from the whiskey he’d indulged in. Dean’s eyes slid closed, and he slipped off into his dreams.

_The crack of a whip brought him to his senses, eyes desperately trying to see through the haze clouding them, brain fighting to make sense of where he was, what was going on._

_“Wakey wakey, Dean.” A rough voice growled in his ear, accompanied by the wet sensation of a tongue running along the shell of it. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the fun, now would we, hmm?”_

_A shiver ran down Dean’s spine. He felt dizzy and sick to begin with...he wanted to be home, and Alistair talking to him like that wasn’t making him feel any better. Alastair talking to him period didn’t make him feel good. That was why he’d filed the restraining order._

_“Answer me!”Alistair barked, whacking Dean with whip, marking him with a bright pink line that ran perpendicularly along his ribs._

_“N-no sir.” Dean’s felt his lips form the words in an unwilling slur; he wasn’t supposed to talk to Alistair, it would only encourage the psychopath. He tried to struggle, but he found his body didn’t respond. Nothing he did worked. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Dean was a prisoner in his own body, his own mind._

_“That’s a good boy.” Alistair hissed, raking his hands through Dean’s hair roughly, pulling several strands free from his scalp. “ Don’t fret, pretty thing… you’ll thank me for this later. You know you will.”_

_Alistair disappeared from his field of vision, and Dean could hear him moving behind him. Then came the first sting of the cat o’ nine on his back, and Dean couldn’t help but let out a wail of pain._

He woke up screaming. Dean struggled for a few moments to catch his breath, then dashed to the bathroom upon feeling bile rise in his throat. He managed to get his head over the toilet before emptying his stomach into it. Panting, Dean slumped against the toilet, resting his forehead against the cool porcelain.

“Fuck…”he muttered, trying once more to catch his breath. His back stung faintly, phantom pain from the scars across his back, given to him that night. Alistair was the reason Dean knew what a Dom shouldn’t be. Alistair was sick, twisted… liked dealing out pain until his partner bled, and offered no aftercare of any sort.

Dean had ended up in the hospital for three days, left broken and bleeding outside the ER by one of Alistair’s lackeys. They treated him for severe lacerations to his back and head trauma, not to mention the evident sexual trauma. After that, he’d been stuck seeing a psychologist for two years, and attending court for over a year before Alistair was finally put behind bars.

Alistair couldn’t hurt him anymore… but that didn’t mean that Dean wasn’t still afraid of him, of monsters like that finding him again. Dean knew why he’d had that dream. He was scared, despite his sweet and polite exterior, that inside, Castiel was just as much a monster as Alistair had been. That was why until now, he hadn’t dared go back to men. Despite the roughness of Pamela’s punishments, the things she’d put him through, she’d always been there to comfort him afterward. She’d always made sure he was safe and happy with everything before, during and after. She had been a part of his healing.

After Pamela had come Lisa. Sweet, vanilla Lisa, who’s idea of kink was trying out almost every position in the Kama Sutra. She’d been kind, she’d been safe… But she wasn’t what Dean wanted, deep in his heart. He needed, wanted, to be hurt and healed, and she couldn’t give that to him.

There was a knock at the door, followed up with a soft squeak as it inched open. Dean’s head shot up in a panic, but he relaxed again when he saw the familiar face of his father peering in to check on him.

“You- you alright, Dean?” John asked through a yawn. “Heard you scream.”

Dean nodded rapidly. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just a nightmare.” He took a deep breath slowly got to his feet, flushing the toilet as he did. He crossed to the sink and splashed a little cold water onto his face and rinsed his mouth. Dean noticed his father’s concerned eyes as he towelled his face off.

“I’m fine, Dad. Really.” Dean insisted. “Go back to bed.”

Still not looking thoroughly convinced, John nodded and backed out of the room. “Goodnight, kid.”

Dean sighed and slowly meandered his way back into his bedroom, falling back into bed with a sigh. He eyed the digital clock on his nightstand and groaned, realizing he only had a little over two hours left to sleep before he had to get up for work. Today was going to suck.

* * *

“Hey, big guy. Excited for your date tonight?” Pam asked, slipping into Dean’s office, slinging the messenger bag that served as her purse over her shoulder.

Dean briefly glanced up from the paperwork he was reading over. “What? Oh yeah. The date. Yeah.” he said distractedly, turning the page over.

Pamela blinked, arching her eyebrow. “Dean… Is everything okay?”

Dean sighed and set the stack of paperwork aside, rubbing at his face. “It’s fine.” He said in a clipped tone.

“You’re nervous.” Pamela stated matter-of-factly.

“I am not.”Dean growled back.

Pamela rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re still at the office at six, when he’s supposed to be at your place for dinner at...what time did you tell me, seven?”

“It’s six?!” Dean’s eyes shot to his watch, which had stopped at five-fifteen. “Shit.”

* * *

Castiel was fiddling with his shirt collar when Dean answered his knock at the door at seven on the dot. Dean gave him a shy smile, which Castiel returned before Dean stepped aside to let him into the apartment.

“Sorry it’s such a mess...Dad’s kind of a bit of a slob.” Dean said, scurrying around to gather the empty cans of pop and beer and half-eaten bag of chips off the coffee table, straighten the blanket that hung over the couch back. “I’d have cleaned up more, but I got hung up at work and had to rush home and get food started, so…” He trailed off, cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment.

“You have a lovely home, the slight mess aside.” Castiel said, smiling genuinely at Dean.

Dean smiled back. “Thanks. I, uh...I hope you’re not too picky when it comes to food. Like I said, I was rushing-”

Cas shook his head quickly. “It smells fantastic.” He inclined his head toward the kitchen and grinned widely as he caught a few bars of the song blaring out of a set of speakers attached to Dean’s phone, Elvis Presley’s ‘Burning Love’ . “And your taste in music isn’t half bad, either.”  
Dean grinned, took Cas’ hand and led him into the kitchen, where the table was set for two, with a steaming pot full of a mixture of Kraft Dinner, chopped hot dogs, and sauteed vegetables sitting in the middle.

“It’s not gourmet...but I figure it works, right.”Dean said, gesturing for Cas to take a seat while he disposed of the cans into the recycling bin under the sink.

Cas eased himself into a chair, his smile never faltering. “It looks good, Dean.”

“Beer?”Dan asked, scurrying to the fridge to retrieve one for himself. 

“Please.”

Dean grabbed two bottles and popped them open, turned down the music some, then returned to the table and took his seat. “Dig in.” He said, handing Cas his beer.

Castiel took hold of the ladle and started filling his plate. “So…” It was his turn to sound somewhat uncertain. “How well do you know Pamela?”

Dean chuckled. “Well… we used to… we were…”

“You were scene partners?” Cas suggested.

“Well, yeah. But we were dating at the time.” Dean said quickly. He wanted Cas to understand from the start that he expected a full relationship; that he liked being more than just two people who shared a dungeon once a week. “But yeah...I...she was my Domme.”

Cas nodded steadily. “And she thinks you and I are compatible.”

Dean nodded back. “Yeah. She thinks you’d be really good for me. I’ve been, you know… off the scene for a while.”

To try and hide how awkward and anxious he felt, Dean busied himself filling his plate, eyes averted.

“I know. She told me. I can assure you, I have no intention of pushing you into anything you are uncomfortable with. Our lifestyle is meant to be fun. An escape from the real world where you can just let go.” 

Dean looked up and stared at Cas for a long moment, trying to read his face. His ocean blue eyes were calm, and he was wearing a half-smile that eased the anxious knotting in Dean’s stomach.

“Yeah...exactly.” He said slowly. “It’s just… my last partner… before Pamela… he didn’t get that.”

“We don’t have to discuss it now.”Cas said gently. “After all, we are still new to each other.” He picked up his fork and brought a bite of Dean’s concoction to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, and after he had swallowed said, “You know, this is actually very good. And nostalgic.”

Dean let out a laugh. “KD Supreme.” He explained. “I used to make it for my little brother all the time. I can make in a heartbeat, and well, I was in a rush, like I said.”

“Well, if this is what you can do under pressure, I’m sure that with time to prepare, your results would be absolutely spectacular.”

They both smirked at one another.

* * *

Dinner passed with several more not-so-subtle passes between them, and by the time they had cleaned up and done dishes side by side, Dean felt as if Cas were an old friend. They settled onto the sofa, their fourth beers on the coffee table, Dean leaning comfortably into Cas’ side as they watched “The Ranch” on Netflix, something Dean found hilarious and Cas found himself enjoying more than he thought he would.

Cas’ fingers made their way gently down Dean’s side, tapping along to the rhythm of the show’s theme. Dean turned his head and gazed up at Cas, grinning lazily. 

“Pretty good night so far, huh?” He asked, shifting and lacing Cas’ fingers with his.

“Definitely not a bad one.” Cas replied, stroking the back of Dean’s hand with his thumb. “I could think of far worse places to spend a Tuesday evening.”

Dean beamed at that, at the sincerity in his voice. That was quickly becoming one of the things he liked most about Cas. It felt like every word out of the man’s mouth was genuine, like he could really trust him. He turned his attention back to the TV.

They played a sort of game over the next half hour; stealing glances at one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking, staring into one another’s eyes when they both looked and constantly toying with each other’s hands. After a while, neither of them was paying much attention to whatever Sam Elliot and Ashton Kutcher were arguing about on the TV.

Finally the silence was broken.

“Kiss me?” Castiel asked, voice soft. He wasn’t ordering Dean to do it, but his tone very much suggested he’d appreciate if he’d oblige. 

Dean leaned up and in, teasing with his lips just out Cas’ reach. Without hesitance, Cas closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Dean’s in a slow, deep kiss. He shifted around, so his free hand could wind gently into Dean’s hair.

A moan escaped Dean, smothered somewhat by Cas’ chapped but soft lips. This felt amazing. It felt right. Cas felt right, and it was igniting something in Dean he hadn’t felt in some time. He felt a faint stir of arousal deep in his belly, hot and heavy.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was already needy, catching in his throat.

Castiel was only too happy to indulge him.


	4. What Comes Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after that first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter is short and hops all over the place, but it is necessary! And you will get some good smut soon, I promise!

Pamela’s jaw dropped as Dean walked past her cubicle on Wednesday morning. She bit her lip and launched out of her chair, hurrying after him and quickly falling into step at his side.

“I know that look!” She hissed excitedly, taking care to keep her voice lowered. “You son of a bitch, you got laid last night, didn’t you?!”

Dean said nothing, but his smile grew slightly.

“And?!” Pam probed. “What do you think?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Dean snorted. “No scenes on the first night. You know my rules.”

“Right, right.” She corrected herself quickly. “You fuck the first night, scene negotiations come later.”

“‘Fucking’ isn’t the right word either.” Dean said as they approached the elevator.

Pamela pouted. “Come on, Dean! Throw me a bone here! I just wanna know that you’re satisfied…”

Dean hit the call button for the elevator and the doors slid open. He stepped inside and turned back to face Pam, tapping his floor and the door close buttons as he did.

“I am very satisfied. Later, Pam.”

Pamela shook her head and flipped him the bird as the doors closed. 

* * *

Three weeks came and passed, punctuated with a couple more dates and a couple more ‘happy endings’. Things were going well with Cas, and Dean was eager to see where the road would take them.

He snuggled into Cas’ side, basking in the afterglow and the other man’s touch as he stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, strong arms wrapped around him.

“Is there anything you need? I won’t hesitate to provide you with aftercare.” His gravel-deep voice asked through the dark.

Dean shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips. It was good to hear those words. Good to be with someone who understood how important that part of the game was. But for Dean, a little spanking during sex was hardly something that required aftercare. Cuddling sufficed.

“I’m good. Do you need something?” He asked in response. He knew from his discussions with Pam, more than from experience, that dom-drop was something just as common and upsetting as sub-drop.

“No. I feel wonderful.” Castiel answered.

There was a rustling sound as Dean shifted, moving to kiss Cas lazily. Cas hummed softly against Dean’s lips, a sound of contentment.

For several minutes, there was no sound but the ambience of cars passing on the streets below, and the soft sounds of a lazy make-out session. When Dean finally broke away, his eyes strayed to the clock. It was nearly one in the morning.

“I should go.” He said, sitting up and flipping back the sheets. “It’s late.”

Cas took a gentle hold of his arm. “Stay?”

Dean looked over at him, and smiled faintly. He couldn’t say no to the sad little kicked-puppy face he knew Castiel was making, even through the dark. He didn’t know why this man enraptured him the way he did, but it made Dean…feel. “How long?”

“The rest of the night?” Cas let go of his wrist and draped his arm over Dean’s body, the gentle possessiveness sending a delightful little chill down Dean’s spine.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He leaned back and lay down again, snuggling in next to Cas. 

* * *

Dean let out a deep sigh as he logged out of his computer to take his lunch break. It had been a week since he’d first spent the night with Castiel, and the two had been texting intermittently all day, and each little buzz of Dean’s phone made his heart flutter lightly.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat as he looked at the black screen of his phone, the little LED light in the corner flashing to let him know he had a new text. He opened it.

**  
**

**So…I wanted to ask you if you were interested  
in taking things to a different level?**

  


He stared at the words for long time. He was loving the way things were working out, loving spending time with Cas... Dean chewed his lip, then sent a text back.

**  
**

**What kind of different level?**

****

**I was thinking of trying things out between us at the club,  
if that’s alright? If not I understand. I know you have your  
issues with the scene. ******

**  
******  


Dean sighed and rubbed his face. Fucking Cas and his fucking understanding and tenderness. How the hell was this man so sweet? He sighed softly. Cas was precious.

**  
**

**I’m not sure…**

****  


Cas’ response was delayed, and Dean was certain for a moment that he had scared his precious Mr Perfect off, until his phone buzzed once more.

****

**Would you feel more comfortable with a supervised session?  
Perhaps Pamela would be willing, if you are comfortable with  
that?**

****  


Now there was an idea. Obviously, Dean had no issue with Pam seeing him naked, and it probably would help to ease his anxieties some to have her there, should something go wrong. She knew him and his behaviors in a scene like no one else, and would be sure to pick up on it if something wasn’t right.

**  
**

**Maybe. I’ll ask her and see what she says and get  
back to you?**

**

Of course. Take your time.

**

Dean stowed his phone away into his pocket and got up from the desk, walking out of his office. Food first, then he would make arrangements to have a chat with Pam. 

* * *

Later that night, after Meg had plied herself, Pam and Dean with drinks several times over, good conversation and laughs had been had, Dean had managed to finally screw up his courage enough to bring up the topic of his blossoming relationship.

“So, about Cas…” He said slowly.

“Oh god,” Meg snickered, setting her elbows on the table and leaning toward Dean. “Spill, Winchester. Tell us all the dirty gritty details.” Pam swatted her girlfriend’s shoulder lightly.

“What about him, Dean?”

Dean gulped down the last few swallows of his beer and licked his lips. “I got a favor to ask. Rather, Cas and I both do.”

“You can’t use her for a threesome.” Meg interjected quickly, wrapping herself around Pam possessively. “She’s all mine.”

Both Pam and Dean rolled their eyes.

“I don’t wanna have a threeway.” Dean said irritably. “No offence, Pam.”

“None taken.”

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Cas wants to do a scene down at the club.”

Pam nodded slowly. “Okay…” 

“And he thinks it wouldn’t be a bad idea for someone to, you know, keep an eye on things.” Dean sighed. “He suggested I ask you, and I think that would be the best option.”

Pam gently patted Meg’s hand and gave her a meaningful look. Meg seemed to understand and got up from her chair, vanishing to a different room. Pam reached across the table and took Dean’s hand.

“Sweetie, if you want me to come monitor, you know I will. But if you don’t think you are ready-“

Dean shook his head. “I wanna do it, Pam. I like Cas, and the sex is freakin’ great. But that’s kinda what freaks me out. He’s so good. Like, perfect sort of good.”

Pam sighed sympathetically. “And you’re scared he’s not really as good as he seems.”

Dean didn’t answer her, he just stared at their joined hands wordlessly.

“I’ve got you.” Pam assured him. “Just give me a date and time.”

A small smile crossed Dean’s face, and he looked somewhat less worried. “Thanks Pam.” 

“No problem, Dean.” Pam said, sliding the bottle of wine over in his direction with a wink before getting up to go and invite Meg back into the room.

Dean pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Cas.

**  
**

**She’ll do it. Got an idea of when you want to do this?**

****  


By the time Dean crawled into bed at 2 AM, he still didn’t have an answer.


End file.
